


what are friends for?

by fyxxen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyxxen/pseuds/fyxxen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek walks into his kitchen on Thursday night to a sight that makes him both incredibly curious and deeply nervous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. mapping it out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [turnpikedarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnpikedarling/gifts).



Derek walks into his kitchen on Thursday night to a sight that makes him both incredibly curious and deeply nervous.

Allison and Stiles are surrounded by what looks like dozens of failed diagrams as well as a number of empty wine bottles. They’re intently staring at the newest diagram as if it could reveal the secrets of the universe. Or the recipe to Mama McCall’s magic lasagna. Equally important things.

Derek drops a kiss onto Allison’s forehead before resting his chin on the top of Stiles’ head, looping his arms around Stiles’ chest.  


“Do I even want to know what the diagrams are for?”  


“Hey. There’s nothing illegal or even morally questionable happening here, thank you,” Allison snarks at Derek.  


“We were cooking and drinking some wine I brought back on my last business trip to Paris and reminiscing which led to an argument–“  


“Discussion of the FACTS,” Stiles interrupts, only to have Allison roll her eyes and continue as if he hadn’t said a thing.  


“Over the history of our relationship… but we got confused with the timeline situation? So we tried to make a map.”  


“Well, let’s start with you and Stiles, then. That happened the farthest away from home, and let’s be honest, chronologically organizing this is not going to help anyone figure it out.”  


\- - -

  
It's not like Stiles really thinks about it when he starts looking at study abroad programs. Then again, it's also not like anyone is around to remind him where _they_ all ended up. Scott left for New York, following Kira after she had gotten in contact with an artist's commune just outside the city. He and Scott still skype weekly, meet up to play MMORPGs, but they're working on recovering their "we're best friends, definitely soul mates" dynamic. Skyping helps when Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling like the darkness is trying to drown him. It's not like he could talk to a random hook-up about that, but he also finds it's not the easiest thing to talk to Scott about, not anymore.  


Part of them becoming friends again is telling the other person about what's going on in their lives, but it's more of an afterthought rather than an invitation to be involved in the planning process. Logically speaking, Stiles knows Allison is in Paris. He and Lydia still email each other regularly, becoming good friends while she's at MIT, terrifying her professors and somehow charming her classmates. She asks him if it's really a good idea. He ignores the email until he gets the confirmation that he’s been accepted. When he tells her, she sends a brief congratulations and tells him to have some fun French sex.  


Neither of them mention her best friend who won't respond to her emails, and hasn't since she left the country.  
He doesn't really talk to anyone else about it, except somehow Derek still finds out (Stiles is pretty sure his dad has been inviting the grumpy werewolf over for dinner a few nights a week, so he's the likely informant to blame), because a package shows up at the student mailroom with a few books– a French-English/English-French dictionary, along with some classic fairy tales by Charles Perrault and Countess d'Aulnoy, as well as a short note.  


'stay safe. have fun.' 

Stiles wants to throw out the note along with the books.  
But his French could use some work.

Honestly, he doesn't think too much about Allison, or the Argents in general, until he winds up lost in the middle of Paris. It's not like he hasn't thought about the supernatural in general- he's not part of an official pack, but he's enough of a spark to catch the eye of most supernatural creatures, so he researches into the packs in the area and whatever else he can get out of the email contacts he has. It's not too much of a surprise that wolves don't live in Paris. The mountains of people are good for hiding some things, but the city is too dense for a wolf to be happy. To his surprise, there's not an established hunter family in the city, Argent or otherwise.

Stiles suspects some of what he's read about witches and sentient cities protecting what's theirs could have something to do with that, but he doesn't mention his theories to anyone. Even among the supernaturals he's met online to exchange info with barely believe him about the Nemeton and the darkness. He let it drop.

But again, he's stuck (lost) in the middle of Paris and his French, though substantially improved, is really more suited for ordering a drink, or a dirty and rough hookup at the bars he's been frequenting his first month before university classes start. He can't think but wonder how Allison is doing and how many times, if ever, she got lost in the city before settling in. He wonders if she's happier now.

The sound of the window of the apartment above him slamming shut snaps him out of his thoughts, followed by the sound some something shattering. He winces in sympathy, causing his eyes to catch the street sign nearly hidden behind some planters by the apartment across the way. He whoops in excitement, he wasn't as lost as he thought!  


\- - -

  
Allison is in her customary post-run slump with a steaming cup of tea in the window of her apartment, enjoying the sunny Parisian day when she notices a figure walking in the street below. He's not remarkable, and he looks lost, so she's about to learn out the window to see if she could yell directions down to him (she figures she needs all the good karma she could get from the universe) when she realizes the man is familiar. With his hair grown out, and tank top revealing muscular arms covered in geometric blank ink, she almost didn't recognize Stiles Stilinski. She doesn't know why it startles her so much, but she falls off her window seat as the wind slams her window shut, causing her to drop her mug, which splashes hot tea on her arm as it shatters. She curses, wishing she kept something stronger in her kitchen than the table wine that was waiting for her dinner.

"Fuck this, I'm going out tonight", she thinks to herself as she grabs her phone to scroll through her contacts. It's not like she doesn't have friends in the city, but it's hard to find people who are willing to go out for a night of fun who don't want a ton of explanations for some of the more gruesome scars she gained from her time in Beacon Hills. Then there are the marks that aren't visible from the Nemeton. Fuck, she just wants to get drunk and have a night like a regular college student for once.  


\- - -

  
Allison drains the last of the wine from her glass.

“I thought so much about karma in those days without trying to talk to anyone about what I was going through. It was so strange though, that I saw Stiles in the street and then of course that night when I was trying to forget him, I run into him at the fucking club.”

Derek makes a noise of assent to encourage her to continue, with Stiles jumping in for little details.  


\- - -

  
Stiles ends up going to the wrong club. The lack of clothes and copious amounts of body paint are the last cue he needs to realize that this is not the jazz club that the lovely woman at the café recommended to him. When an incredibly attractive Moroccan couple invite him to help paint each other, he decides he doesn’t mind too much. They ask him back to their apartment later in the night after body shots in accented French, and he almost regrets turning them down except there’s a brunette across the room with a killer body covered in shimmering green and pink body paint.

After saying goodnight to the Moroccan couple, he tries to track her down on the dance floor, but other than her body paint, she’s wearing nondescript clothes and has a pixie cut close to her face.  
He gives up when he feels arms wind around his neck and a sleek body grind against him from behind. He’s an equal opportunity dancer, after all.

It seems like hours later when they turn and face each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces. They’re about to kiss when the lights reflect off the bar and illuminate both of their faces.

They’re inches across from each other when Stiles Stilinski realizes he’s about to kiss Allison Argent.

They’re inches across from each other when Allison Argent realizes she’s about to kiss Stiles Stilinski.

“I won’t make it weird if you don’t,” Allison whisper-yells she watches Stiles lick his lips.

“It’s study abroad, this isn’t the worst decision I could make,” Stiles says right before he dives for Allison’s lips.

It’s probably the angriest hook-up Allison has ever experienced. And she loves it. They bite and scratch each other, leaving marks she know she’ll feel the next day. The glory she feels in not having to pause to explain her scars is perfection— she recognizes most of his scars as well. They’re at it till nearly dawn and only fall asleep until neither of them can even think about more sex.

When Stiles leaves in the morning, Allison pretends to be asleep. She finds the note he put under a magnet on her fridge two days later:

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

A Parisian cell number is beneath, signed with just an S.  


\- - -

  
Stiles smiles as Allison finishes telling Derek about the note he had left, “I was so nervous when you didn’t call or text the next day. I wasn’t looking for anything, but. It seemed so important to me that… I don’t even know, something happened.”

“But you guys never dated while in Paris, right?” Derek asks, “Neither of you really talk about those days.”

Allison looks sad for a moment, “I think we were just both so angry and feeling empty, at least I was. It wasn’t about being friends, it was about having a shared history and not knowing where to go any more.”

Stiles hums in agreement, “It was easier after I came back to the States, you know. We actually started talking instead of just getting all of our feelings out via sex.”

Allison smiles, “We got it all to work out eventually.”


	2. let me tell you the story of us

Stiles has always come off as pushy. He likes to think of himself as determined, but knows that not everyone sees things the same way as he does. Right after graduation, he tries to kiss Derek. Derek’s reaction— freezing up, jerking away— clues Stiles in to the fact that Derek was not reading the moment the same way.

Derek hears the telltale sound of the jeep parking in front of the loft and considers pretending he’s not home, or maybe just running away. Stiles helped out with planning pack meetings and whatnot, but other than doing what was needed for the pack, he doesn’t stick around to bug Derek about what recent movies he has or hasn’t seen, or books, or whatever other excuses he’s come up with in the past. It’s a respite, but Derek also thinks he misses it.  


\- - -

  
Stiles takes his time making his way to the loft’s door. After a summer of awkwardness between himself and Derek, and practicing what he’s going to say— dreaming about it, really, about all the possible outcomes— Derek opens the door before he even has a chance to knock.

“Hey, Derek,” he draws out the ‘ey’, looking for the eyebrow twitch of a slightly-annoyed Derek, “Fancy seeing you here.”

He continues without waiting for a response, “I’m sorry things have been weird for us this summer. If I knew that me trying to make a move on you would make you so uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have done it. Uh, so. I guess I came here as a peace offering of sorts? I’m leaving to Reed next week, and I just wanted to let you know.”

His eyes dart around, not meeting Derek’s, “I can take a hint, you know. I’ve accepted that you’re not interested in me like that, but I am missing my friend. And I really hope I wasn’t misreading that. So, uh. If we could be friends again, someday, that would be pretty great.”

He finally meets Derek’s eyes, a stubborn yet slightly vulnerable look on his face. Whatever he sees must satisfy whatever questions he had, because with a nod, he turns and takes off.  


\- - -

  
Allison stops Stiles with the back of her hand hitting his bicep, “How did I not know that? I mean, I know I went off to Paris but _what_?”

She watches the tips of Derek’s ears turn pink as Stiles lets out a full-body, half-disbelieving laugh.

“Oh that’s not even the whole thing. Obviously. The night before I left, well I had actually just finished packing my last bag, this guy,” he reverse-nuzzles Derek’s chin, pinching his forearm with a free hand, “tumbles through my window looking like the world is ending and there will never again be vanilla lattes.”

Derek groans, “I was having a few issues with the whole talking about my feelings thing,” him and Allison share a sympathetic look,” and I didn’t know what I wanted but I knew you drove me crazy.”

“Please tell me you actually did something about it. Please.”

“He have me the kiss to top all kisses, growled that I drove him crazy, and that sex ruins friendships and he was just so glad to have a _friend_ but then I had to ruin it, and then he jumped out the window. And of course he went AWOL till I tracked him down at Thanksgiving, presumably to drag him to dinner.”

Allison giggles at the smirk Derek is sporting.

“Only to find out that my father, the traitor, already invited him so basically he was acting as matchmaker!”

Derek kisses the side of Stiles face as he straightens up, starting to gather up wine bottles to be rinsed and recycled, “and Stiles came back a worldly sex educator, and told me that we could change the rules and that we could kiss and still be friends.”

Stiles rolls his eyes as Allison giggles again, “Excuse you, you straight up ignored me until you kissed me, again right before you left. Again. Not to be found, until I came back for winter break!”

“And I thought I was the one having trouble figuring out what she wanted when we were first getting together,” Allison says as she herds the boys into the living room to crash into their plush couch, originally bought for pack movie nights/cuddle puddles.

Allison and Stiles tangle their legs together as Derek worms his way in between them, slipping a hand up the back of each of their shirts— not to grope anything, just for the contact and warmth. They’re quiet as he tells them what he remembers, what him and Stiles have good-naturedly (sometimes less-so than others) argued about.  


\- - -

  
Stiles shows up one morning early to the loft, he must have run because Derek didn’t hear him till he was in the building and even then he barely had time to slip on some sweats and open the door before Stiles lets out a fountain of words, barely stopping to take a breath,

“I’ve been talking to a lot of people with different relationship styles at school and… well, I know we’ve talked about friends but what I feel for you feels like more than that. We don’t have to have sex, we don’t have to kiss or hold hands or any of that stuff if you’re uncomfortable with that… But we could date. Go on dates? We could do that when we’re together and be friends when we’re apart…”

“Like an open relationship?”  
Stiles is a little taken aback, because it’s not exactly what he had been gunning for, but, “If that’s what you want, I think it could work.”

“We’ve never exactly been the best example of normal people,” Derek retorts as he slips back into the apartment, leaving the door open behind him.

When he doesn’t hear Stiles following him, he turns back around, “we could try the cuddling thing and a sleeping date because it’s a Saturday. It’s 7:30 am on a Saturday.”  


\- - -

  
“But you took things really slow, right?”

Derek nods sleepily, “we didn’t kiss again till I picked him up from the airport when he was finished studying abroad in Paris.”

“It was so goddamn full of feelings Ali, it was wonderful,” Stiles croons until Derek pinches his side, making him squawk in betrayal.

Stiles pets Derek’s hair for forgiveness while relaxing back to look at Allison again, “It was slow but good. We learned to be friends before anything else, which helped when we broke up my senior year. I think we both needed space again, plus I was looking at grad schools. Derek didn’t even tell me he was in therapy until when we were breaking up he mentioned his therapist.”

Allison grabs one of Stiles’ hands to twine her fingers through his, “To be honest I’m not surprised he didn’t mention it though? He was one of the only people I told about me being in therapy for the longest time.”

Derek squeezes Stiles’ hip, “We were therapy buddies.”  


\- - -

  
Derek starts going to therapy when the pack leaves for college. He gets the Hale house bulldozed. He realizes that he’s not ready to build something new in its place, but he is trying to let the past be the past. Move forward in some way.

Unfortunately for him, he has a mountain of regrets and bad decisions to work through. But he starts off doing what he can to make things right. There’s nothing he can do for Erica and Boyd, but he sits down with Isaac and apologizes. Recognizes that he hurt Isaac, starting with turning him for the wrong reasons and going downhill from there.

But, if Isaac would be willing, he would like to be friends. Figure out a way to build a healthy relationship between the two of them.

He skypes with Scott, who is living in New York with Kira, and talks about how Scott was and is a good alpha. Tells him about how much respect he has for him. They start to skype regularly, and although it’s stilted at first, Derek thinks it’s good for the both of them.

He doesn’t tell Stiles for the longest time about therapy or trying to make amends. He’s not hiding it, it’s just not a discussion he’s ready for. He does try to be more open about his feelings towards the younger man, though, with varying degrees of success.

Eventually, he sends an email to Allison, over a weekend when Stiles is on the East Coast checking out grad schools. It’s easier to send the email without someone asking about it. Allison’s response is curt, but she doesn’t tell him to fuck off, so he counts it as a win.

Their emails become more frequent and less cold as time moves along, leading to them having an e-coffee date. In the middle of November, an e-coffee date turns into a spiked-coffee and tipsy confessions conversation surrounding their families. Neither of them lived up to what their families wanted for them, and while they both used blame each other in some way for the death of their families, they also help each other to realize that they’re not the monsters in the equation.

They keep up email chains about making amends and how to get out of bed when the world feels too dark and like there’s a monster within you, interspersed with recipes for different foods and funny articles in French. Allison is delighted to learn that Derek had been obsessed with French in high school– it’s nice to have someone add to the Bestiary and not need to translate it, or add to the prejudice.

Sometime around New Years, Allison visits Beacon Hills. Her and Derek clean their families’ graves together. It’s strange, but it feels right. Like they’re finally able to turn over a new leaf and welcome in a new year. Just as they’re leaving the cemetery, Allison pulls Derek close and kisses him.

She’s blushing, and the tips of her grown-out pixie cut are trying to break free of her beanie and she looks beautiful and about ready to sprint back to her car before he pulls her back into a longer kiss.  


\- - -

  
“Wait I didn’t know that you guys were emailing for all that time!”

Allison nods, “We were starting to email as friends again at about the same time, but it didn’t seem like the thing to share? It was about us figuring out how to feel human. About how to heal, I think.”

Stiles squeezes Allison’s hand, while squeezing the back of Derek’s neck with his other, “I’m glad you were able to be there for each other, then.”

The three of them are quiet as one by one, they slip into sleep, holding each other tight.


	3. we're meant to be together

Derek invites both Allison and Stiles to his apartment. The week before, he had contacted a few people about getting estimates for building a house on his family’s– on his land. He still hasn’t told anyone except Scott about it. Swore him to secrecy, actually. If it had been a few years ago, he’d be worried about Scott telling Stiles. Well, he wouldn’t have actually had anything to tell, really.

He doesn’t think Allison or Stiles suspect anything– even though Stiles and Derek broke up just before Stiles left for grad school, they’re still good friends. He’s not necessarily an every day occurrence for him to invite Stiles over, but it’s not out of the question.

Allison and Derek aren’t official, but everyone knows they’re dating even if the two of them refuse to but a name to it. It’s pretty obvious since Allison moved back, and her and Derek spend a large chunk of time together.

Well, they are dating, but it’s not like they can explain to the town that part of why she moved back was because her and Derek agreed that it was time for the town to have the Argents and the Hales working together to protect the town like they always said they would. She learned a lot about her family’s history while she lived in France, and is ready to make peace with it. She’s learned more about Beacon Hills, too, and fallen in love with it, with the promise for an actual future that she can see in it now.  


\- - -

  
Stiles wakes up around midnight and prods Allison and Derek up to their room. Neither of them are fully awake, or happy about being not fully asleep, but he knows they’ll be happier in the morning having not slept on the couch.

He watches Allison curl into Derek, tucking her head underneath his head and tangling their legs together. He doesn’t miss the way her arm stretches too far over his hips, searching for Stiles’ body.  


\- - -

  
“This type of thing could ruin friendships, but,” Derek blushes, it’s nice to see him relaxed enough to blush.

“uh, what type of thing?”

Derek ignores Stiles’ interruption, “I think this would set our friendship on fire… in a good way.”

Allison smothers a giggle with the back of her hand, “Babe, I know what you’re trying to quote and that just… maybe you wanna use different words?”

Stiles looks between Derek and Allison, and slowly asks, “Are we gonna murder someone? Is this you asking me for a threesome? Either way I’m down. I mean, I’d definitely prefer the latter, but what are friends for?”  


\- - -

  
As Stiles slips into bed behind Derek and feels Derek and Allison relax minutely and pull him closer to them, he’s glad Derek hadn’t been proposing murder.

This is so much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was made for the Teen Wolf Rarepair Exchange, with the requests of Allison/Derek/Stiles, friends to lovers, established relationships, and exploring how characters find small ways to survive themselves and their lives, finding people to help them survive...
> 
> and I was mapping out a few poly variations of different TW ships, and I made a map of Allison/Derek/Stiles, and was amused by the idea of them making a map.
> 
>  
> 
> as always, muchísimas gracias a redweathertiger for being my beta (also shoutout to wholesomeobsessive who inspired me and kept me going)


End file.
